


July Outside

by compo67



Series: Chicago Verse [27]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Schmoop, Songfic, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 22:39:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2000610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/compo67/pseuds/compo67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just an afternoon on the patio, steaks on the grill and a song in Dean's head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	July Outside

**Author's Note:**

> if you don't already follow me on tumblr, you should! i post drabbles there first before i move them here. so if you want to read them first, check tumblr. it's: ittakesalotofwater.tumblr.com :) 
> 
> i wrote this in ten minutes before work. XD 
> 
> something simple and sweet. the song is Burning Love by Elvis, one of my favorites. <3

It’s hot enough out for one beer.

He started the grill and just put the steaks on. He used more beer for the marinade that he has consumed for himself and the point of that makes him proud. Nothing is said when Sam has three and gets a little tipsy, because tipsy like this is a good look on him. 

On a lounge chair, stretched out on the patio, soaking up July sun, Sam is wearing sunglasses and his old man shorts. Chicken legs, Dean wants to tease, but he gets distracted by those same legs, barefoot and tan. Teasing can wait until after dinner. Sam is relaxed and open and taking up space in a way that’s different than all the other times. He pulls Dean in for kisses and dirty whispers of things they’ll do later. The steaks cook longer than Dean intends; but they’re still good.

Licking their fingers after their meal, they look up at each other. 

It’s like being seventeen again.

 

"Do it," Sam challenges, smirking. "All the cool kids are doing it."

Exactly like being seventeen again.

Dean gives in but makes a show of it. He drags himself over towards the door and grabs what he’s after. 

He sits down, using his cane as balance, and ignores the heckles and hoots for him to get the show on the road. He takes his damn time. 

Tuned up, Dean plays a few strums. 

The notes pick up a second later, jolting Sam to sit up and clap along.

"Lord Almighty, feel my temperature risin’. Higher, higher, it’s burnin’ through to my soul." Dean sings loud, laughing when he gets to the good parts. "Girl, girl, girl," he crows to Sam, "you’re gonna set me on fire. My brain is flamin’, I don’t know which way to go." 

Sam scoots his chair over. 

Steak and beer flavored kisses are exchanged but the guitar never stops.

"I just might turn into smoke," Dean breathes, "but I feel fine." 

The guitar plays a little louder; his hands working faster. Sam grabs him by the ears and pulls him in for a kiss that’s deeper than the sinkhole in the corner of their yard.

"Your kisses lift me higher, like the sweet song of a choir. You light my mornin’ sky. Burnin’ love." 

 

Together, in laughter, they sing the chorus.

"I’m just a hunka hunka burnin’ love. Just a hunka hunka burnin’ love." 

It’s been a pretty good summer.


End file.
